


Returns

by wittykitsune



Series: Kit's HSWC Writings [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Romantic Comedy, Self Confidence Issues, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Transstuck, Urban Fantasy, Vampires, Werecats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wittykitsune/pseuds/wittykitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat Vantas is a Werecat working in retail that meets a Vampire named Dave Strider who seems to be out for blood over a return. The pair end up going on a date that ends in distaster. Does this spell the end of Karkat's chances with the charming Vampire? </p><p>Written for MR2 of HSWC 2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Returns

**Author's Note:**

> Art by: http://cazerpan.tumblr.com/
> 
> Author is a cis female and if this work makes you uncomfortable in any way I am open for criticism.

You first meet Dave when he’s coming to the return desk with a few items he simply deems “of poor quality” but not using those words. He put it in a way that makes you lower your ears and hope like hell that there aren’t any kids around and you damn sure wouldn’t be repeating it while at work (you could wait until you were home to tell your friends that someone called sub-par merchandise orc shit and jizz sold cheaply by the pound). He wants a refund and you wonder if this encounter with a near irate customer is going to be angry-but-civil or if you are going to end up physical with someone. He’s lanky in build but taller than you and at first you aren’t sure what he is and whether you shouldn’t page some backup in case he feels like taking his dissatisfaction out on you. You doubt he was someone with magic as he hasn’t threatened you with it yet and those who used it tended to go ahead and pull their implement of choice.   
  
He places the first item on the counter and it makes you swear between your neutrally set teeth. The amber encased baby dragon is obviously a fake made by someone in the oddities department. He then shows you the other item, an improperly marked blood bag, that changes your rage at your coworkers to worry about your safety. Fuck. You now know you are dealing with a vampire with an interest in dead things. He’s not irate about having to make a return. He’s hungry because some asshole stocking the perishables did the date wrong. Now you’ve got someone in dire need of a meal of plasma wanting his money back. His near-white eyebrows narrowed in a stark contrast to the rich earth tone of his skin.   
  
You keep your tail low to try to not be threatening and to prevent it from lifting your blue skirt. You also try not to set your ears back in aggression and instead set them in a more submissive and polite manner. You want to show you intend to hear him out and try to fix the problem. You nearly beg him to stay at the counter while you go get him an exchange on the stale blood bag; you’re not allowed to simply refund him for that. The amber, on the other hand, you’ll be crediting him for (and bashing someone in that department over the head with later).   
  
You come back with a fresh bag from the back and offer it to him with the most humble and least irritable apology you can muster, along with the money he paid for that fake knickknack. He looks at the bag in your gray hands like he’s wondering if he’s going to be denied his meal again and you hope like hell this is fresh from the supplier. He takes it and bites into it right then and there. The pair of red eyes peering over his shades seem to threaten that you’ll be next if he’s duped again, but then he shut them contently and drains it dry.  
  
“Thanks, kitty. I get pretty fucking cranky when I think I’ve got a meal and it turns out to be bullshit.” He wipes his mouth with a red handkerchief from a suit pocket and wraps the emptied bag in that. “Tell that troll wizard if he ever tries to sell me another piece he can’t guarantee I’m making him eat the next one.”   
  
You try not to grumble at the kitty comment; it’s a pretty damn common tease at least until you tell them you ears set near your stubby horns aren’t a common black house cat. They belonged to something larger. “Have a good day, sir. I’m sorry your shopping experience at Weremart wasn’t to your full satisfaction.” You make a mental note to take the fake amber to Eridan and see which would give first, it or his skull.  
  
“Oh, I’m satisfied now. Take it easy... Karkat.” He bends forward slightly to get a better look at your nametag before nodding and heading off humming something leaving you to go on break and give Eridan a complaint of your own. You haven’t had one in a few hours and this seems like something you need to take care of before you forget.   
  
***  
  
The second time you meet Dave you’re up on a step ladder stocking some top shelves with jars of frog eyes. He gives you a fang-filled grin that puts you on guard, but you quickly relax and scowl when he snickers at you.   
  
“Easy, Karkat. I’m not looking for a snack. I just want to know where a couple of things are, if you’ve got a minute. The place is really living up to ‘Where the hell is the shit I want today mart’ and I’d appreciate some guidance. Name’s Dave Strider by the way, sorry about the rude lack of introduction, I wasn’t myself last time.” He offers you a hand and you let him help you down to take a look at his list. His hand is cold in yours, but you aren’t sure that’s him being a vampire or you just being hot-blooded, even for a troll.   
  
  
  
You smooth your skirt and take the paper in hand to look over. You try very hard not to roll your eyes about him pointing out the same thing sort of thing you hear almost every time a customer couldn’t find something. Nothing too out of the ordinary. You can see why he might have trouble finding the two things not crossed out easily. They were easy to walk right by or get missed in their areas. “The dried tarragon is over in spices but it is right below average fucking eye level so most people miss it.” You walk over there with him and find out it wasn’t there and in fact the spices had been reorganized from popular at easy to reach levels to what you could call in short a jumbled mess of out of order hoofbeast shit if you weren’t worried about being overheard by your supervisor. “I’m going to claw someone a new asshole what the fuck even...?” You growl low in your throat and after fifteen minutes of asking him to hold armfuls of jars you have everything back in place and his tarragon in the basket.   
  
“Some asshole really made more work than you needed huh?” Dave still seemed to be in good humor with you even after the wait.  
  
“Don’t worry about it, it happens sometimes. Especially when people get things off the shelf with spells it tends to react bad and shift everything because of our anti theft measures.” The Montrachet cheese wasn’t half as hard to find and you connect both to the eggs and chives remembering a cooking show you’d watched recently. “Planning a fancy breakfast?”  
  
“Is it that damn easy to tell I’m making an omelet?” He seems to grin wider somehow at you for spotting the connection.   
  
You take a breath and hope your face isn’t flushing. His eyes get very bright when he smiles and you can’t seem to want him to stop smiling at you like that, so few people do. “Just a lucky guess. I better get back to stocking before my boss spots me.”  
  
“Yeah that’s cool. I’ll see you around Karkat, don’t let the shelves eat you.”  
  
“I won’t, that only happens to newbies who can’t tell their hands from their ass.” You force your tail down again, the content and curious posture of it was threatening to lift your skirt again. As easy as it would be to get tail holes made you were one being lazy about going to someone about it, and two you preferred keeping your tail in check. It gave far too much away to your liking.   
  
***  
  
The third time you meet Dave you aren’t even at work. You’re tucking into your more-than-rare steak as an after work treat at a local diner. When he comes in you recognize him right off from the suit, same cut as the first two even if a different color. You can’t resist half waving even though you know there’s something on the corner of your mouth. You had changed into a large gray sweater and a skirt with crabs on it. You never went out to eat in your work clothes.  
  
“Hey there kitty cat enjoying your still mooing meal?” He smiles at you and joins you readily, ordering a cup of coffee and piece of apple pie. “Came in for a little dessert myself.”  
  
You don’t question what dinner might have been. He’s probably looking to tease you if you do. You can see this bait easily. “The pie is great, but I’m in need of something more filling and less sugary.”  
  
“Yeah getting close for you isn’t it? Gotcha on a protein binge, right?” Dave thanks the waitress for the pie and hums contently at his first forkful.   
  
“Obviously. You’ve got your cravings and needs and I’ve got mine.” You take another bite and lick your lips this time to get any stray juices. You don’t worry about his eyes watching your slightly rough tongue. “That’s why I’ve got the next few days off.” You look out the window at the sidewalk. The city was in a near perpetual night with only something like dusk being their days. It was different than the realm existing just outside theirs with its harsh sunlit days.   
  
“I think it is probably rude of me to ask, but what goes down for a were?” Dave sips at his coffee and watches you curiously.  
  
“Pretty fucking rude to be honest but I’ll tell you. I become a restless black jaguar for a couple of nights and eat my fridge empty. I have to fully stock it beforehand every time and I’m still always starving when I change back..”  
  
“I didn’t think you were some little kitten.” He reaches over and touches your ear lightly and your resist the urge to purr. His touch is so light and comforting and he’s watching your face. You appreciate his attention to your desires. You’re sure he’d stop if you asked.  
  
“Far from it. The problem is usually the pent up energy more than the hunger. I have to fight it to keep from tearing a bunch of shit up.” You stab your fork into the last few bites of your steak and he’s sliding the menu over to you with that familiar smirk. You chew and sigh then roll your eyes as you let him buy you an order of fish and chips and a vanilla milkshake. You never could turn down free food before your monthly transformation nights. You pay for his coffee and pie and let him get the tip after the two of you spend hours talking about everything from work to various cravings you’ve gotten in your hungers.  
  
***  
  
The fourth time you see him is no chance meeting. You’re in your best red dress with roses in your arms and he smiles when he answer his door.   
  
“You really know how to treat someone Karkat. Roses, such a romantic.” He takes them from you and carefully puts them in a vase before letting you take his arm when you offer it.  
  
“Yeah, well I figured you deserve something nice for being so courteous.” You’re nervous and giddy enough about him accepting your invitation to dinner and you hope it isn’t showing in your tail. You had Kanaya alter the dress to let your tail out properly from it so it wouldn’t be peeking out the slits on either side or showing up as a lump in the back.   
  
He only grins and doesn’t say a word about your clunker of a car, a rusting silver vehicle that might be older than you are, whose model you could never remember. The restaurant isn’t fine dining but a small casual seafood place. You both have fish raw and compliment the freshness. When you’ve finished and are chatting over coffee you slip your foot out of your shoe and rub it playfully on his ankle.  
  
“That was quite a meal Dave, don’t you think? Nothing to complain about and for me that’s pretty fucking rare.”   
  
His eyes peer over the shades at you and seem to brighten and he slips his own out to return the play. The two of you are giggling when a waiter passes with a pair of platters of shrimp cocktail for a large party. When a kid runs in front of him neither you nor Dave react quickly enough. You’re glad you’re wearing red, but cocktail sauce isn’t the nicest addition to Dave’s white suit you think.  
  
***  
  
The fifth time you see him is three weeks after you have stopped speaking. He refused to let you pay for the suit cleaning and the fight you had about it made you scared to even try to get in touch with him after. You’d both said harsh things. Things you didn’t mean and the things you heard from him in return you couldn’t blame him for saying. You were always harsh with yourself. When you heard things from others you either got pissed or you took them to heart. This time you did both.  
  
You try one more to rationalize things. You barely know Dave and just because he treated you kindly didn’t mean you two were meant to be anything, not even friends. You sit at the customer service desk trying not to remember that it was where you met Dave. You wonder if finding a new job is worth the trouble or if the pain would lessen in time. You spot Dave with a pretty witch dressed in all purple and black and he’s carrying her basket. The two are chatting animatedly. You spend your next break chugging a carton of heavy whipping cream in the back and trying not to cry or run out there and rip the witch to shreds. It was just a crush. You’d had those before and even though it hurt you remind yourself you don’t know him well enough to hurt this much. Your bloodpusher won’t listen to your think pan thought. It never does.   
  
***  
  
The sixth time you see him you’re at a Deadbox kiosk returning a few movies. He has a few of his own in his hands. You don’t return his soft ‘hey’ for a few moments. You stand acting like the screen has you distracted while trying not to get upset. You don’t want to see him anymore. It hurts too much to know you want the two of you to be a thing more than he does. You even know how selfish it is to expect it but you can’t help yourself. Your romantic ideals told you you had a chance. Even after the fight you’d continued to hope, but seeing him with someone else changed that. You hadn’t been going steady (that first date being the only one), but he’d obviously moved on more easily than you. Maybe he’d been already dating her and pitied you. The cocktail sauce had just provided the perfect excuse to stop seeing each other. You ball your fists tight and think it over for only a few moments before you turn and grab him into a soft kiss and then run off. You curse yourself for your stupidity and almost hope he chases you down and kicks your ass for it, but he doesn’t and you spend the night on your couch cleaning out your fridge. It is only the new moon.  
  
***  
  
The seventh time you see him is the next day. You dress in all gray and can’t help staring down at your feet. You knock on his door and wonder if he’ll even open it for you or if he’s even home. You both hope he is and isn’t there so that maybe your feelings will finally be crushed enough to die like you know they should. He owes you nothing. You only went on one date and spoke a handful of times. He isn’t and never will be yours and you’re wrong to wish it and you know it. You don’t want to belong to anyone either. That isn’t how love really works. You wish you could be angry with him instead but imaging punching his face is pretty hard when you keep remembering his smile.  
  
When Dave opens the door he’s in pjs with records on them. He’s sucking on a blood bag, and you almost want to laugh at this vampire in his midtwenties in such attire answering the door with a bloody mouth wearing bunny slippers. Instead you whisper a soft apology. “I’m sorry for kissing you, and for the fight. I was being... It was wrong and I’m sorry. Can I have my credit card back please if you have it?” You can’t even look at him and you feel so stupid for leaving it at the Deadbox. You hope he had it though you wouldn’t blame him for leaving it there and not wanting to take it.  
  
You hear Dave sigh and you lower your ears. You half shut your eyes in anticipation of whatever answer he had for you. You want very badly for him to be harsh and make these feelings go away, but his hand lightly touches your hair and strokes your ears. “Of course you can have it back. I was going to call you tomorrow if you didn’t come looking for it soon. I knew it would get you to come talk to me. Come in, let’s watch a movie.”  
  
He pulls up Webflix and picks out a rom com you remember telling him you enjoy. He makes popcorn and hands you a soda before getting his wallet and sitting the card on the coffee table. “Leave it there while we talk.”  
  
“I’m sorry.” You say it again both hoping it will set him off and finally make him be cross with you, and that he’ll somehow forgive you. You hate how hard you’ve fallen for him. You hate that you’d give anything and everything to keep seeing him smile at you.  
  
He doesn’t answer you and keeps petting your ears lightly as you watch the movie. You’re stuck in your thoughts and try to drown them out with food and soda. The crunching gives you something to try to dull the words in your head. You wish the touch didn’t make your chest hurt but you’ve wanted this so badly but not in this situation. You begin to feel like you might cry if he doesn’t say something soon when he’s suddenly turning your head his way and looking at you without shades, eyes bright and calm.   
  
“You think I’m actually mad at you don’t you? I mean yeah the kiss was an invasion of space but after I put the pieces together. You’ve worked yourself into this idea that I’m done seeing you and that you need to get out of my life. Karkat - it isn’t like that you need to talk to me and stop assuming shit about what I’m thinking and doing. I didn’t call back after the fight because I wanted you to cool off for a while and I’d rather talk shit over in person. I tried to see you when I went with my sister to pick some things up, but when I came back in I couldn’t find you in the store. I got busy and was thinking about picking up a movie and swinging by your place to offer it and talk things out when we had our meeting at the Deadbox yesterday. We’re not over unless you want us to be. I don’t want it to end, but if you can’t keep trying with me without continuing to hurt yourself over this simple thing we probably need to stop and I’ll help you get some help. You didn’t want me to get covered in cocktail sauce.”  
  
“She was your sister?” You cross your ankles and play with your skirt a bit. You are caught between wanting to smile and also wanting to scream at him and yourself for assuming.   
  
“You saw Rose. Yeah, she was the witch and we’re related. We’re close, but I’m not dating her.” He wraps an arm around you and rubs your upper arm lightly. “You saw and let it get to you, didn’t you?”  
  
“Yeah. Fuck I’m... you sure you don’t want to kill me?” You rub the back of your neck and try not to berate yourself again. It was a misunderstanding. You fucked up but not in the way you thought. You almost want to punch him for even putting you in the position but you can’t bring yourself to. It isn’t his fault you thought those things.   
  
“Never. You need some help and probably some love, but not being killed Karkat. I’m more than willing to do the first two.” He kisses two of his fingers and touches them to your cheek and then your lips.   
  
“Can I kiss you with permission this time?” You can’t help smiling softly at him and you move the bowl onto the coffee table.  
  
“Yes. If I get to give you a hug after.” Dave is grinning again and you flush softly before returning it with one of your own.  
  
“I’d fucking love that."


End file.
